


Just Watch

by diemarysues



Series: A King and her Burglar [12]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Female Bilbo, Female Thorin, Multi, Smut, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 09:46:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is all Elly's fault. The tags are summary enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Watch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elluvias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elluvias/gifts).



> This is part of the Jewels in Her Hair 'verse inasmuch as it features fem!Bilbo and fem!Thorin, and features the same aspects of their relationship.   
> You can choose whether you want to consider this 'canon' or not, seeing as I am aware that it's not everyone's cup of tea.

“Thorin.” Bilbo touched her wife’s bare shoulder, fingering an intricate knot of scars. “Do you love Dwalin?”

 

There was only a second’s pause. “Yes. Though I do not love you any less.”

 

She smiled. “I know that.” Her other hand went to Thorin’s other shoulder, palms a cool contrast to her wife’s perpetually warm skin. “You proved as much not half an hour ago.” A blush dusted her cheeks. “But you still stare.”

 

Thorin looked away, focusing her gaze on the polished wall of silver that served as a mirror. “Wouldn’t you?” she muttered, almost to herself.

 

Bilbo’s hands continued their stroking. Thorin started to fasten the tiny pearl buttons of Bilbo’s dress, before they made themselves late for breakfast. But her consort had a mission on her mind.

 

“Do you want to be with him?”

 

“Dear one… I’ve made my choice.” She swallowed. “We’re married.”

 

Bilbo seemed not to be listening. She did that quite often. “Because if you do… I don’t mind.”

 

Thorin settled her hands on Bilbo’s hips. Bilbo gazed up at her with no shame or shyness and the Dwarf decided to indulge herself by brushing their mouths together. She kept close, their lips still touching when she asked, “What are you saying, Bilbo?”

 

“I’m saying,” she murmured. “I don’t mind at all.”

 

* * *

 

_She’d never have thought that swordfighting was attractive._

_Certainly, when they’d been facing Orcs and Goblins and Wargs and Trolls, it’d been an ugly thing. The jarring hit of metal-on-metal, the sick sounds of blades slicing and sticking into flesh, the spray of thick blood – these did not endear Bilbo to the ‘art’ of swordplay, or axe-play, or whatever-weapon-play._

_But now, now she was sitting in the sunshine with a pipe between her teeth and grass under her toes, and feeling like a lecher as she watched Dwalin and Thorin practice._

_Bilbo swirled the smoke around her mouth before exhaling slowly._

_It wasn’t a dance. No one could claim that what Thorin and Dwalin were doing was worked out beforehand. No one could claim that it was particularly graceful, either. What the two Dwarves were trying to do was simple: they were trying to disarm or incapacitate the other. And they didn’t care how they did it._

_Clever and observant hazel eyes watched carefully as Thorin handled Orcrist like it was an extension of her arm, swinging it in a wide arc as she flipped her hair from her face. Bilbo was equally as watchful when she took in the way Dwalin gripped Grasper and Keeper, alternating between using one, the other, or both at once._

_So… maybe it wasn’t the act itself, but the people carrying it out._

_Well, it was no surprise that she found it pleasing to look at Thorin. Considering the braids Bilbo wore proudly in her hair, and their activities between the sheets (and in the pond, and on the grass, not too long ago…), it would have shocked Bilbo if she_ didn’t _enjoy looking at the Dwarf King._

_Finding her gaze equally drawn to Dwalin was a bit unexpected, though._

_Oh, Bilbo wasn’t as prudish as most believed her to be; she was perfectly aware that a person could find more than one object of attraction. She’d experienced it before. But, as she had then, she wasn’t going to act on her desire. Especially considering that she had no idea if Dwalin felt the same way – he probably didn’t – and that she was already involved with Thorin._

_Still. She crossed her legs guiltily and tapped the stem of her pipe against her lower lip. There was no harm in looking._

_Looking turned into imagining, and Bilbo found herself wondering if Dwalin would be forceful or if he’d be unexpectedly tender. She wiped her sweaty palms against her skirt when she thought about large, tattooed hands parting her thighs as she sat on Beorn’s veranda._

_As Dwalin remorselessly kicked Thorin in the shins, Bilbo let her head list to the side. She could almost feel the ghost of Thorin’s lips against her exposed neck, just like she could almost see Dwalin leaning forward to capture those lips with his own. She_ ached _, just thinking of the brush of those beards against her skin._

_Fíli and Kíli dropped down on either side of her, cheering as their King and her best friend circled each other warily. Bilbo reeled in her imagination a little regretfully. (The Dwarves in her fantasy had just begun peeling off her ‘too-fussy’ layers of clothes.)_

_After awhile she passed her pipe to the brothers to share, and sat on her hands. Reining in her imagination hadn’t worked at all. No, now she was wondering whether she could smuggle honey from the supper table._

_When Dwalin threw his head back and laughed heartily enough that he had to grab onto Thorin for support, Bilbo very carefully uncrossed her legs and went back into the house. If she was a little more aggressive than usual that night, Thorin certainly wasn’t complaining._

 

* * *

 

They made sure to talk about it over the course of several weeks.

 

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust one another; no relationship without implicit trust could have survived what they’d gone through. No, no. Bilbo and Thorin were quite secure in their love for each other.

 

They just weren’t completely certain that they should bring Dwalin into that love – whether he’d be receptive to their offer. As much as they both desired him, as much as they both loved him, they did not want to lose his friendship.

 

They had both observed the warrior in their own ways; and now they observed him together. If Dwalin noticed this new scrutiny, he said nothing.

 

However, when all three of them were alone in a room, he couldn’t _not_ comment on it.

 

“Are the two’f you going to sit and stare all night?”

 

Bilbo picked up her goblet so she could hide her guilty smile. It wasn’t her fault that the scar that cleaved Dwalin’s right eyebrow had caught her gaze so thoroughly. She covered Thorin’s hand with hers; their eyes met.

 

“We wanted to talk, actually.”

 

Dwalin’s brows lifted, and Bilbo almost whimpered. “You could’ve talked without inviting me to supper.”

 

“Don’t bother complaining about the food,” Bilbo said dryly. She could clearly remember him walking into her Hobbit hole as if it’d belonged to him, and then helping himself to her dinner and cookies (and, later, everything from her pantry).

 

At the amused look in his steel blue eyes, she knew he remembered as well.

 

He turned to Thorin. “What is it?”

 

Bilbo squeezed Thorin’s hand as a wordless act of support; they’d agreed beforehand that Thorin would do the talking. She’d known Dwalin all his life, after all, and they were close friends.

 

No matter how this conversation turned out, Bilbo fervently hoped that they two remained close friends.

 

She had her heart in her throat as she listened to Thorin speak; her wife’s tone was easy and even. Thorin didn’t stumble over her words, even though only last night she’d almost reduced a chair to splinters to quell her nervousness.

 

It didn’t take very long. Thorin was known to be direct in all she did; asking her old friend to share her and her wife’s bed was no exception. Silence fell and Dwalin made no move to break it.

 

Thorin cast a worried glance towards Bilbo. Bilbo smiled encouragingly. Perhaps the other Dwarf needed time to process it.

 

“Dwalin?”

 

“My King…” Dwalin bowed his head. “I cannot…”

 

Thorin closed her eyes, lips parting.

 

Bilbo decided that she’d had enough.

 

They’d been seated around a small round table, Thorin between Bilbo and Dwalin. It was simple enough for the Hobbit to get to her feet and move around the table, mouth firm with intent. She gently brushed her hand across Thorin’s shoulders as she passed, and then was not gentle when she shoved Dwalin against the back of his chair.

 

She savoured the surprise on his face before putting her hands in his beard and kissing him.

 

* * *

 

_She was exhausted._

_She had blood in her hair and in her clothes and on her skin, and enough cuts littered on her body to justify some of that blood being her own. Her arm hung limply by her side, useless. She thought a few of her toes were broken._

_She was exhausted._

_She was dirty. Dirty enough that there were clear tear tracks down her cheeks (Thorin was kind enough to point that out between hacking coughs). Dirty enough that tearing off strips of her already-ripped and filthy skirt to wipe herself with would’ve made her cleaner rather than grubbier._

_She was really, really exhausted._

_All Bilbo wanted was somewhere quiet to sit down and be ignored. She wanted to disappear. In fact, she was just fingering the gold ring in her pocket when a large body appeared before her._

_Numbly, Bilbo looked up to meet Dwalin’s eyes._

_“You’re alive,” he rumbled._

_If she hadn’t been so tired, likely Bilbo would’ve laughed. Instead she just nodded, lower lip trembling. It didn’t stop even when Dwalin pressed a thumb to her chin._

_“You came back.”_

_“Yes.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper, a croak. Crying for hours did that._

_Then Dwalin dropped to his knees before her. Bilbo almost couldn’t comprehend this, almost couldn’t comprehend that he’d wrapped his arms around her waist, almost couldn’t comprehend that he was still speaking._

_“Thank you._ Thank you _.”_

 

* * *

 

Thorin kissed Bilbo. Her hands fluttered on her wife’s broad shoulders, unsure of whether to pull Thorin closer or push her mouth to more neglected parts of her body. Dwalin came to the rescue by reaching around her body to cup her breasts as he thrust his hips up into her.

 

By all that was good in the world, she was going to _die_ – and die happy.

 

Bilbo couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t even really say where Dwalin ended and Thorin began; all she knew was that she’d never before known anything like _this_.

 

She desperately kissed back when Dwalin curled his fingers over her jaw and turned her head towards him. Thorin moved to lave attention on Dwalin’s corded neck, effectively sandwiching Bilbo between their two hard bodies. She squirmed and raked her nails down her wife’s back.

 

Oh, but she could hardly believe that this was happening. How long had she imagined this, in this very bed? How long had she taken to swallow her nerves and ask Thorin? How long had they waited until they were sure enough to ask Dwalin?

 

It was worth it. Yes, _yes_ , it was worth it.

 

Bilbo watched with wide eyes as Thorin impaled herself on Dwalin’s thick fingers and ground down impatiently. The King smirked at her wife and spread Bilbo’s legs further apart, making her squeak as Dwalin moved more quickly.

 

She wasn’t going to last, she wasn’t –

 

Dwalin’s breaths were harsh in her ear, his chest hair an odd prickly sensation against Bilbo’s bare back. He slipped his free arm around her waist to hold her in place. Thorin reached out to grasp a handful of his beard, making him growl.

 

Bilbo moaned and twitched and gasped.

 

After a few more hard thrusts, Dwalin spent himself inside her with a deep groan that hummed through to her bones. Bilbo was draped bonelessly against his body, watching through half-lidded eyes as Thorin tumbled off the edge as well, gasping and cursing, knuckles white.

 

When they had cleaned up and sorted whose limbs went where, Bilbo was quite happy to find herself settled between two Dwarves. She sighed when Thorin settled a heavy arm around her waist and settled her own hand against Dwalin’s cheek. Some warm and all-encompassing feeling glowed in her heart and she smiled. Closed her eyes.

 

They fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Dwalin's become my bicycle for the fandom, honestly. Sorry.
> 
> Unbetaed.


End file.
